


Blemishing the Vellum

by jettiebettie



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gags, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Restraints, Riding, Spardacest (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29497122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jettiebettie/pseuds/jettiebettie
Summary: V ignores Nero's demands, instead moving closer to fluidly drop down and straddle him, a hand reaching out to grab the young man by his hair and pull his head back to force eye contact. He firmly places the handle of his cane under Nero's chin to make it clear that he has nowhere to go. The boy's expression falters for a moment, anger slowly replaced with a degree of uncertainty."I see you've yet to learn some manners."
Relationships: Nero/V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Blemishing the Vellum

V recognizes the architecture of Fortuna almost immediately. There is, however, something noticeably off about the surroundings. When he came to fetch Nero, several of these structures had long been demolished and cleared away, time not yet replacing them with something new. 

Now, though, as he spins in a slow, observing circle, he sees buildings as they had been nearly two decades ago, when Vergil first set foot here. 

He summons Griffon into the air.

"Yeesh, is it me or did we take a wrong turn down Memory Lane?" he asks.

"Scout ahead. See what you can-"

The loud, echoing report of a familiar gun clips Griffon's wing, causing him to spiral out of the air before catching himself on an updraft. Feebly he flaps to perch on V's outstretched arm. 

"Ow! Shit, what the hell was that for?!" Griffon nudges his beak to the injured wing as streams of ink-like smoke drift from the wound. Irritably, V grips his cane and glances down the almost empty street. 

There, Blue Rose propped on his shoulder and demonic arm still intact, walks Nero. Except, it isn't the Nero V knows. This boy is just that - a boy - with longer hair than V is used to seeing and a face still filled out with the softness of teenage youth. He stops several yards away, raising his gun to take aim at Griffon once more.

"More of you freaks? I've really had just about enough of this."

"Hey, hey! What's your problem, kid?!"

"You seem to be laboring under some misconception," V says, attempting a bit of diplomacy. "We've no business here. In fact, we were just leaving." He nods in a dismissive bow, moving stiffly to turn and begin looking for a way to return to Red Grave City and the Qliphoth. 

Despite having shown the young man his back, V's senses are attuned to the threat behind him. Instinctively, the muscles in his arm tighten, signaling Griffon to take off just as another shot is fired. The attack just barely misses them both, and V spins back around, thrusting his cane out to summon Shadow. She leaps with a roar, and V has the satisfaction of seeing Nero's eyes widen before he springs into action. 

As his intent is not to harm, Shadow's attacks are little more than warning swipes, meant more to tired the boy out or at least force him to reevaluate. From above, Griffon makes a nuisance of himself every time Nero reaches for his gun, swooping in to claw at his arm and shoulders. 

Nero makes an angry, unfocused swing up at him before chancing a glance in V's direction. 

"These monsters come from your scrawny ass, huh? Then let's take out the source!" 

Griffon must have let his guard down while Nero's attention was elsewhere, because he squawks in surprise when he's suddenly grabbed by the spectral extension of Nero's right arm and thrashed once, twice, a third time into the ground before being lobbed back at V's feet, falling into stalemate with a broken off "Fuck you!"

V frowns deeply at Griffon's core, his aggravation for Nero's single-minded brutality growing with each passing second. As the boy maneuvers beyond Shadow's less than fatal efforts to keep him in place, V moves around his downed familiar's swirling mass, the grip on his cane tightening further. His steady, methodical steps are in stark contrast to Nero's breakneck sprint toward him. With the sound of an engine revving to life, Nero brings the Red Queen down in a wide arc.

It takes a measured use of his finite demonic power, but V has admittedly never learned the finer points of sensible conservation, especially when there is an unruly pup to discipline. The moment his cane makes contact with Nero's sword in a risky parry, the resulting clang and minor shock wave push them both back from one another. But while V had had his feet firmly planted, Nero was not so lucky, and surely now regrets the jump he'd made to add the force of gravity to his swing.

Nero is knocked back on his ass, the Red Queen spinning on the ground out of his hand and away from easy reach. Before he gets a chance to right himself, V has Shadow form into an ominous pool beneath him, black ooze capturing the boy's arms and legs to keep him pinned down. He struggles, naturally, but it only takes another push of demonic energy to give Shadow the strength to hold him with little effort.

V runs a hand through his hair and breathes deeply, slow and calming to quell the unease he feels in his body every time he begins to overexert himself. Looking down with half lidded eyes at Nero's futile attempts to free his limbs, he can't really bring himself to regret it. All that fire and obstinance refusing to admit defeat is a decidedly familial trait, one of the few V and his brother both share. 

What else had Dante passed to this one?

"Let me go, asshole!" Nero snarls at him, his teeth bared in hatred.

An abundance of disrespect for one's superior, it would seem.

V ignores his demands, instead moving closer to fluidly drop down and straddle him, a hand reaching out to grab the young man by his hair and pull his head back to force eye contact. He firmly places the handle of his cane under Nero's chin to make it clear that he has nowhere to go. The boy's expression falters for a moment, anger slowly replaced with a degree of uncertainty.

"I see you've yet to learn some manners."

Nero hisses, opens his mouth to retort but fails, the words trapped uselessly on his tongue. V raises an eyebrow, curious at Nero's sudden reservation. Tentatively, he relaxes his painful hold on white hair, instead stretching his fingers out to soothe the scalp.

"What's this? Are you telling me you can be taught? That you can be a good boy." 

V expects Nero to lash out in word and action, for him to savagely defend his wounded pride.

He's not expecting the bright red flush that blooms across Nero's cheeks and nose, or the shuddering breath he lets out instead of a string of obscenities. The wide, almost bewildered blue eyes that look up at him suggest Nero wasn't expecting it either.

V pulls back a bit to get better view of him, to evaluate what he's seeing properly. To do so, he sits more fully into Nero's lap, startled somewhat when he feels the shape of something press insistently against his ass. Another hiss falls from Nero's lips, but this one is almost pained, followed by a small, strangled moan.

"Ah," is all V can say for the moment. 

Panic drains the color from Nero's face and he once again struggles to free himself. He stills almost immediately when all this does is cause more friction against his sudden erection. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, the accompanying whimper lighting a sadistic fire in V's blood. He can't keep the slow smirk at bay as he lightly lets his cane drop to the side. 

Nero startles a bit as he turns his head to look at it. When he looks back up to V, it's with a mixture of embarrassment, fear, and vulnerability. V uses the hand still in Nero's hair to cup the back of his skull in a facsimile of a loving touch. Bending down, he lets his own dark hair curtain their faces, giving them the illusion of privacy as he whispers against Nero's slightly trembling lips.

"Should I reward you? Do you think you've earned it?"

"W-what? I don't- I-" 

To stop the boy's stammering, V leans to nip sharply at his jaw, drawing out another whimper. He laves the indentations of his teeth with his tongue.

"Cut it out! Get off of me!" Nero shouts, turning his head away. 

He doesn't pull at his restraints again, however, has in fact pushed himself as far into the dark ground as he possibly can in an effort to keep some distance between their bodies. V chuckles and simply lets his weight rest completely down, stretching his knees out to the side to make up for the length of his legs. 

"Hush, now," V says as his fingers massage the back of Nero's head in mocking gentleness. With his other hand, he drags blunt nails down a clothed torso, letting them catch on the belt buckle before deftly beginning to remove it. Nero jerks again.

"S-stop!" 

Tiring of his protests, V has Shadow form a band of inky blackness across the Nero's mouth. It pulls his head back to the ground, holding him prone. Now with both hands at his disposal, V removes the belt entirely, pulling the pants open. He reaches inside, drawing out Nero's cock and begins to stroke it to full hardness, pushing his other hand under Nero's shirt to trace the contours of the abs beneath. Around his gag, Nero cries out, his hips jumping minutely against his will. 

"You could use a bit more training, I think," V tells him. He keeps his strokes slow and teasing, gathering precum at the tip with a mean swipe of his thumb. "Nothing's quite as unbecoming as inexperience-" 

When V glances up, the jibe falls flat. Nero is straining to look down the length of his body, frightened eyes watching V's hand work him, his breathing starting to dip into hyperventilation. 

A feeling of mercy once so uncharacteristic to his nature overcomes him for a moment. Sighing, he leans over, his nose nudging the hairline of Nero's temple as he presses his lips to clammy skin. He trails languid kisses down the side of the boy's face, keeping his hand still for the time being. When he reaches the gag he moves down to the neck, drawing a bit of flesh between his teeth to tenderly suck a bruise into existence. 

The intimate attention seems to calm Nero's nerves a bit. His hiccupping breaths even out slightly, the quick panting through his nose now somewhat steady. When V pulls back, Nero's eyes are closed and his eyebrows are drawn. V places another kiss between them before letting his hand resume its ministrations. This time, instead of panicking, Nero moans.

"Good boy," V says again, enjoying the way Nero shivers. He increases the pace, his long fingers spreading the leaking fluid from tip to shaft. The reduced friction and added ease must feel good enough to override Nero's objections, because he is now moving counterpoint to V's strokes. Eventually, V simply maintains a firm grip, letting Nero fuck up into his hand to reach his completion of his own volition.

Nero's body seizes when he comes, his semen splashing over V's fingers and onto his rumpled clothes. He sags to the ground, panting again for a whole new reason. Licking his lips, V uses his unsoiled hand to loosen his own trousers, pushing them down to his thighs.

"You did so well," he praises, dipping forward to kiss at the underside of Nero's jaw. 

As he's bent, he reaches back and begins to prep himself, using Nero's release to ease the way. When he finally opens his eyes, Nero hazily looks down V's back as the man giving teasing attention to his collarbone. He doesn't fully comprehend what he's seeing, can only tell that suddenly there is more skin revealed that's not his own. He makes a confused sound around his restraint and feels a laugh rumble along his throat.

"Such commendable efforts deserve recompense." As V works himself open, pushes his hips down into Nero's, his own erection dragging across sticky skin and spent flesh. "But first, a lesson in stamina." 

Channeling demonic energy into himself and his nightmares is one thing, but he's never really attempted something like this. Regardless, he places a hand low on Nero's stomach, just above his softened member. Concentrating, he builds a faint purple light in his palm and fingertips before letting it seep into Nero's body. Nero jerks unintentionally this time, as if receiving a painless electric shock. The sound he makes is both startled and aroused as his cock begins to harden again so soon after coming.

Heedless to his resulting lightheadedness, V smiles, licking the back of his teeth as he raises up on his knees. He pulls his fingers out from inside of himself, braces his hands on Nero's torso and looks down at the poor overwhelmed child beneath him. When Nero begins to shakes his head furiously, V shushes him again.

"'You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.' Here, let me teach you."

The keening whine Nero lets out when V sinks down onto him is delicious both in its sound and Nero's inability to stop it. V takes a moment for himself, letting his body adjust to the fullness. These sensations, while not unfamiliar, are a distant and cloudy memory. An experimental rise and fall of his hips remind him why sex was one of the few indulgences Vergil let himself drown in on occasion.

The pace he sets is a selfish one, he's seeking his own pleasure here. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, V uses Nero's body for the first bit of their coupling. The muscles under his hands quake, contracting and uncontracting in an effort to keep still. Irritated by this show of self-control, V opens his eyes and looks down at the boy. 

Annoyingly, his focus isn't on V. His head is tilted back ever so slightly, tear filled eyes staring at the church's imposing spire far in the distance. 

Ah, yes. The beloved Kyrie. 

V's discontent is replaced with a ruthless sense of satisfaction. Unbidden, a laugh escapes him, low at first before growing in volume and cruelty. It draws Nero's nervous attention before his eyes screw shut when V increases the strength of his movements. That's more like it. He owns Nero now, he's the one wringing pleasure out of him, the one giving his body its first taste of this.

What must have once been saved is now V's and V's alone, as it should be.

"Oh, Nero," V sighs out, taking in the boy's surprise that this stranger knows his name. "Whatever you imagined will pale in comparison." This vague sentiment only seems to confuse Nero more. V sets about educating him.

Unzipping the red tunic, V pushes the undershirt up to bunch beneath Nero's arms. Nails trace lines around hardened nipples and a defined chest. Leaning over to tease them with his tongue causes his body to tighten further around Nero's cock. Each small, aborted thrust up that Nero makes lacks a little more control each time. V finds that circling his hips every now and then results in Nero rolling up with him, as if milking the sensation for as long as he can, despite his best efforts to keep still. Just when he starts to regain his self-awareness, V switches it up again, bouncing with a varied rhythm. 

The redness has returned to Nero's face, painting his cheeks in a lovely shade of life. When the tears at the corner of his eyes begin to slip, V presses close to lick them up, kissing the wetted area left behind. 

"So good," V purrs. "You're being so good for me. Anyone would want to keep you." 

Another thrust from beneath him. Another whimper. How weak the boy is to such words. 

"Is that it, Nero? Do you want me to keep you, let you taste me whenever you've done well? Do you want to be mine?"

There's no restraint in the hips that slam into him this time, driving Nero's cock in even deeper, the strength of them forcing V up further on his knees as he gasps. And it doesn't stop. Just as he did with his hand, V steadies himself and lets Nero do the work to seek his own pleasure. Fascinated, V watches as he struggles against the bindings of Shadow's body, though not seemingly to free himself this time. 

Recklessly, V gives a silent command for Shadow to ease up, to give slack to the tethers holding Nero down. 

"C'mon," V coaxes. "Have of me what you will."

Something in his words must trigger a dormant part of Nero's nature, because a second later arms are ripping out of Shadow's hold completely, and the force with which they grab and pull V in leaves him dizzy.

Sitting up, Nero crashes their mouths together in an awkward, unpracticed kiss. V has to grab the sides of his head to fix the angle, but when he does their lips slot together more fully, and Nero lets out a shaky, contented sigh as he presses his tongue inside. He backs away, just for a moment to ask,

"What's your name?"

He's too impatient to wait for an answer, already initiating another kiss.

V would laugh again if he weren't otherwise occupied. Poor boy, so desperate to give deeper meaning to this moment, to find something genuine in it. It would serve this unruly child right for his earlier actions if V refused him now, if he wickedly ripped away this method of coping from Nero. 

But, he thinks as he delights in the young man's quickly learning mouth, he's expended his allotment of harshness today. Now he only wishes for release. Breaking away, V drags his lips across the shell of Nero's ear.

"You can call me V."

He's surprised when Nero slips out of him and he suddenly finds himself pushed onto his back, Shadow's disembodied form likely being the only thing keeping his head from hitting cobbled street. 

Perhaps he'd miscalculated, he thinks with a feeling of trepidation. He can sense his familiar beneath him shudder with the intent to skewer the potential threat above him, but the situation takes a turn when V's pants are ripped the rest of the way off by hands that don't belong to Nero.

Startled, V props himself on his elbows. Nero looms over him with unfocused eyes, pupils blown wide as red begins to bleed into the thin discs of his irises. 

Behind him hovers a devil, V's tattered trousers held in one of its glowing blue claws before it tosses them aside. Unfamiliar with this power, V swallows.

"Nero-" 

The boy's own hands grip his legs and pull him forward off of his elbows, holding him open. V makes to reach out to him, to talk him back from whatever trance he's in, but the devil grabs him by the wrists and holds him down as Nero presses into him again. 

Both he and Nero moan out. V throws his head back, the pace Nero starts with being quick and brutal. V had kept things punishingly measured and teasing. Nero seems to have no such ability, choosing instead, or perhaps having no choice, but to viciously seek out his climax. His movements are eager and unrefined, moving purely on instinct. 

Despite the obvious inexperience, V finds himself enthralled by its animalistic nature, revels in the pain as much as the pleasure knowing that Nero simply cannot stop himself now. 

He did this, he made Nero this. Not Kyrie, not Dante. 

_Him_.

His selfish cackling is broken up sporadically by sharp intakes of breath on each powerful thrust. 

"Just like that," he praises, his mouth hanging open in heavy pants. "Sweet, obedient boy. All mine."

The hands holding his legs suddenly change their grip, pulling him in as Nero works his knees under him. The devil drags V up by his wrists, holding his arms to just over Nero's shoulders and keeping him precariously suspended. Pulled this far, he's close enough for Nero to claim his mouth yet again, attacks with tongue and teeth though with more finesse than the first time.

Nero never stops driving into him. V wraps his legs around Nero, trusting the devil bound to the young man's will to bear his full weight. Its claws tighten almost painfully around his arms as Nero's movements becoming choppier, more erratic. 

"V..." Nero moans, almost himself for a brief moment.

"That's it," V encourages, licking Nero's lips. "A little more, love, just a little more." Nero's fingers dig into his skin, the claws of his demon hand drawing blood with the sweetest sting.

The chorus of sweat slick, tacky skin becomes impossibly loud, the wet sound of their joining and their heavy breathing echoing off of the walls of nearby buildings. When Nero comes a second time, it's with a choked off shout and trails off into the softest mewling as he crushes V against his chest, pumping inside of the heat of his body. The increased fullness wrecks V's senses, tips him over the edge as well as Nero buries his face in the hollow of his throat. 

The devil vanishes and with it goes the majority of V's support. Reflexively, arms release his legs to quickly wrap around his back, lowering his exhausted body to the ground as V weakly holds onto his shoulders. Absently, he calls his familiars back to him, letting the lines of his tattoos darken. 

There's a moment when the young man pulls back to look at him that V see _his_ Nero. The Nero he's fought along side, bantered with, and has been saved by. The one who's introduced V to his new favorite foods and makes V rest when he's overdone things, his pride be damned. For just a heartbeat, he looks like the one V's grown to covet with a greedy heart. Those fierce blue eyes, that boyish charm and bravado...

But just like that, the moment passes and clarity returns the Nero of this time. And with clarity comes revelation. With revelation, fear and shame.

Hesitantly, V reaches out to him but Nero jerks away from him like he's poison. Horrified, he realizes he's still inside of this complete stranger, pulling out so fast that V can't help but grimace. Nero stands on shaky legs, trembling as he forces himself back into his pants, freezing when he sees his own seed begin to leak out from V's body and onto the street.

V leans up on his elbows again, but the movement spurs Nero into action. He tenses when the boy rushes to grab his abandoned sword. But instead of running V through, Nero sprints away from the street and toward the church like a man being chased, never once looking back. When he can no longer see him, V tiredly lowers himself back onto the ground, draping an arm over his eyes.

What consequences will come of this, he wonders.


End file.
